


Life Sized Ghosts

by frenchforbird



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Minor Henry Cheng/Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, PTSD, like the relationship isn't shown its just implied, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchforbird/pseuds/frenchforbird
Summary: Another short Pynch story, requested by same friend as before. It's inspired by the song Life Sized Ghosts by Mt. Wolf. There are some vague mentions to Adma's abuse, and a sort of in depth description of a PTSD induced anxiety attack. If those things trigger you, please don't read.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Place your dreams where they're meant to be  
> Name your price to be at ease  
> To comply is to lose our innocence  
> Now I am not so innocent
> 
> Life size ghosts  
> Have come rushing through the cracks  
> Life size ghosts  
> They have come to push you back
> 
> Cut your ties they have lived to die  
> Trace your hand round an untouched land  
> Or watch fortune's skill  
> As it becomes invisible  
> Now will you be invisible?

Adam couldn’t breath. It felt like his head was underwater, shouts and slams echoing beyond what seemed possible. Then, he saw his father, and woke up. 

Ronan was asleep next to him, taking up as much of the bed as he could. He knew Opal was asleep in the next room, buried underneath her unholy collection of stuffed animals. Ronan enjoyed spoiling her. He enjoyed spoiling Adam, too, and he knew if he woke Ronan up he wouldn’t sleep until the last traces of the nightmare was gone.

The boy gave too much to Adam, he thought. 

Adam could hear some rain falling outside, and wrapped a blanket tightly around himself. He sat up in the bed, resting his back against the headboard. The nightmares weren’t frequent, and he was grateful for that, but they always shook him up. Running a hand through his messy hair, Adam swung his legs off the bed. There wasn’t any way he was sleeping tonight. 

His bare feet padded across the carpet, and the floor creaked if he made a wrong step. He loved this house; this place he called home. His feet froze in protest as he stepped into the kitchen, the stone cold against the soles of his feet. There was the remnants of their dinner in the sink, rinsed out bowls that probably still smelled like spaghetti. It was Opal’s favorite food, and they tried to have it almost every week.

Pictures were pinned up on the fridge, terribly and lovely drawings by Opal. A postcard from Gansey, he had gone on a trip with Blue and Henry a few weeks ago, was tucked underneath the drawings. And then, on the counter next to the fridge, was the court documents, the bills. Adam didn’t mean to remember them. He didn’t mean to pull them out, read every single word. He didn’t mean for Ronan to find him, crying on the kitchen floor, the papers spread out in front of him. 

“Parrish, what happened?” His voice was soft and kind, and soon he was on the kitchen floor too. He didn’t touch Adam, waiting for a sign that he could. 

Adam didn’t touch Ronan either. He didn’t think he could deal with touching right now, goosebumps across his skin at each movement. He didn’t answer the question, staring blankly at his boyfriend, shivering.

“Let’s get you back to bed, then. We can talk in the morning.” Ronan sweeped up the documents and stuffed them behind their bread basket (a gift from Henry. “Everyone needs a bread basket,” he said). “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

Ronan didn’t look cold, only tired, and extended a hand to Adam, raising an eyebrow. It happened every time Adam had the nightmare. Slowly, he ended up in the kitchen, and then Ronan was there. Sometimes they touched and other times Adam had to push himself off the ground, had to curl up on the edge of the bed. 

He took Ronan’s hand this time, but let go as soon as he was on his feet. Ronan took the blanket Adam had draped over a chair and handed it to him, being oh so careful to not touch Adam. Sometimes touching was all Adam wanted, but now it would be the one thing that would ruin everything. 

The two walked back to their bedroom, and Adam sat on the edge of the bed. Ronan laid down, and it felt like hours had passed before anyone spoke.

“It’ll be warmer in the bed,” Ronan offered, quietly, to not startled Adam. 

“I thought you fell asleep.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Adam shifted so his legs weren’t hanging off the bed, looking down at Ronan. In the dim light, he looked softer, fading into the shadows with each breath. His buzzed hair blended into the pillow he was laying on, and his eyes were just barely open.

“I think I might be okay with touching now.” The dream had faded now, even though Adam could recall each vivid detail if he closed his eyes for long enough. The blankets rustled as Ronan sat up, holding out his hand for Adam to take. Adam nodded, taking the hand and shifting so his shoulder pressed against his.

“You can wake me up next time.” Ronan always said that.

“I know.” Adam always said that, too.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to sleep now?”

“I think so.”

Still holding hands, the two laid down, bundled under the blankets. This was Adam’s home, Adam’s family. He never wanted to let it go. Ronan never wanted to let it go, either.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I am currently open for requests for any sort of short fic like this, so if you have something you want to see, please leave a comment.


End file.
